The Pureblood's Secret
by prodige
Summary: Amidst a world falling apart, Neville finds someone worth the fight.
1. Prologue

**Set during Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows; For Alice (:**

* * *

Neville felt like an idiot.

Of course, this was hardly a new experience for the meek Gryffindor, but it felt bad all the same.

Every year, _every single year, _he was the only person fear-mongering about getting through the barrier to platform 9 3/4.

What if someone saw him? What if someone suspected what he was? What if the barrier was sealed? Naturally, he had never known the barrier to seal itself before, but that was the exact sort of thing that usually happened to Neville Longbottom.

He shook his head. The world was being shrouded in a cloud of Death Eaters and fear. He _would _be worrying about a barrier sealing itself. A barrier that had worked without fail for the past six years.

He sighed. Same old routine.

"I used to be scared too," said a chirpy voice from behind him. Neville turned around and watched her as she scampered over and stood beside him, her hair bobbing along to the bounce in her step. "But I've found, when you do things with somebody else," she held out her hand, "it's not as frightening to do." She looked up at him and smiled with such radiance that he couldn't help but to grin back sheepishly. He took her hand and tried to ignore the muggles rushing about, as unaware as they were that he was there.

This was easy when he was holding hands with her. She didn't grip it and pull it and tug it like his Gran used to. And she didn't just hang onto it, as if she didn't particularly want to hold it.  
She simple held his hand and led him through the barrier.

Everything seemed easy with Luna.


	2. The Old Plan  1

The Hogwarts express was a mighty crimson steam train that left from Platform 9 3/4 to the muggle-repelled location of Hogwarts, a school of witchcraft and wizardry. As aware as the first years were of the looming and dark dominance of the wizarding world that currently surrounded them, they had been told Hogwarts was the safest place they could have come to in the uncertain climate. The older students, however, didn't seem so comforted by the idea.

Ginevra Weasley, a petite and pretty sixth-year with fiery red hair, was staring out the window of the Hogwarts express, occasionally sniffing every now and again. There was little to see on the outside. Since the death eaters had taken a grip, the weather seemed to be in a bad mood.

Neville seemed to get a cold feeling inside by wondering what Ginny may have been thinking. He had never known her to keep quiet when something was on her mind and when she did turn around, Neville suddenly wished she hadn't. Although the murky weather allowed for little light to filter into their compartment, Neville could not miss how her eyes looked red, sore and unseeing. He wondered: had he ever seen Ginny cry before?

"It's not fair," she mumbled bitterly, looking up at him, "they're out there, somewhere," she was nodding to herself, "and they're fighting for_us_."

"What can _we_ do?" Neville murmured, his eyes fixed on his fiddling fingers. He had been trying not to think of 'them' and what they could be doing. He couldn't help the awful images that came to mind when he thought of them being on the run, when he thought of merciless death eaters trailing their every move.

"All we do is sit here waiting," she laughed without humour, "and not knowing. And doing nothing! It's driving me mad, Neville! _We __can't do a thing!_"

A few first years bumped into their compartment door, howling with laughter between themselves.

Neville had never seen Ginny like this before. Ginny, who more often than not was the one keeping everyone else together.

"I don't think that's true," Luna suggested simply, gazing at her finger. On realising that Ginny and Neville was staring at her, she reached into her little cream side-bag and rummaged about for a moment before pulling out a single galleon. "I thought it might come into use this year." Neville stared at it for a moment, wondering what good a single galleon was right now.

"You are not seriously suggesting that Dumbledore's-" began Ginny skeptically.

"Brilliant," cried Neville, unable to stop himself. He plunged his hand into his own bag and searched for his galleon, to no prevail. He wondered if he had left it at home or simply lost it. Come to think of it, he didn't remember the last time he saw it.

"Not to worry," Luna reassured him brightly, "we can always reorganise things."

Ginny didn't seem particularly convinced.

"How is there going to be a Dumbledore's Army without," she paused, "the other three?"

"There's us three to carry it on," piped up Neville, "we were at the Department of Mysteries-"

"-we were almost killed" said Ginny bluntly.

"So we've had experience! If there was ever a time to defend ourselves, it's now. You're the one who just said we're not doing anything! Dumbledore's Army is something we can do!"

Ginny didn't respond and resumed staring out the window.

"It's not about training ourselves up anymore, Ginny," said Luna softly, "it's about sticking together."

Hope lit up a long forgotten light in Neville's mind, as memories of finally feeling like a wizard and finally doing some sort of justice to his parents' name flooded through him. He looked at Luna, who caught his eye with a look of surprise on her face.

Having disembarked the train, Neville stood on the platform merrily, involuntarily smiling to himself and waiting for Luna and Ginny.

"Somethin' funny Longbottom?" Crabbe snorted as he got off the train and spotted Neville. Luna followed him and stood beside Neville, looking at Crabbe with a blank expression, followed immediately by Goyle. Neville's face had fallen, the little moment of glory seemingly rained on.

Goyle seemed to grunt as he pushed in between Luna and Neville.

"If I was friends with scarhead," he droned, "I wouldn't be smilin', I'll tell'ya that."

He and Crabbe shared booming laughs as they hi-fived eachother waiting on the platform. Pansy Parkinson came off the train scowling, fiddling with a plait in her hair. She pushed passed Neville, redirecting her putrid expression at Neville and Luna. She nudged Goyle with her shoulder.

"Come on" she ordered quietly.

"But Malf-"

"-is coming. Go."

After a herd of curious but bumbling first years, Ginny came off the train. The three of them walked silently to the carriages, until they were overtaken by Draco Malfoy, who was walking on his own, his head bowed. Neville could have sworn he was muttering with himself.

"Strange," said Ginny, "he didn't even push past us. Not like Malfoy to pass up a chance to ruin somebody's day."

**The idea of this chapter was to expand on the characters a bit. I hope I don't bore you too much!**


	3. The Warning  2

Before they had entered the great hall, Ginny had insisted she wasn't hungry and, despite Neville's pleas, went straight to her dormitory.

There were changes. Unsubtle and unhidden changes that Neville spotted on his way to sit down at the Gryffindor table. For one thing, the ceiling was no longer bewitched. Why had they done that? The last times Neville had seen the cold normality of the ceiling was the after the deaths of Dumbledore and Cedric Diggory. He wondered who or what may have died for this. He wasn't the only one who had noticed this, many people were looking up and frowning.

Without the hundreds of candles that usually floated above them, the only source of light came from a few large lamps hung around the hall. They left the hall in a strange kind of dim light. Neville had always wondered if the collection of candles that hovered above them were real candles having been levitated or just an illusion of the hall. It seemed to take away the magic of the Hogwarts, when the little secrets were put out bluntly for display.

Hogwarts without magic. Neville grimaced.

The row of teachers at the front certainly looked different. Some of them wore scowls and looked at the children with a disinterest or even disgust, as if Snape had duplicated himself. The teachers who weren't scowling simply looked sad. Professor McGonagall glanced directly at where Neville was sitting with a defeated expression, which made Neville assume she was looking for Harry. Everyone seemed to be looking for Harry recently.

There was no speech from the 'headmaster' Snape, no introduction of the new teachers and no school song. They simple ate.

As Neville was poking his spoon into jelly, a new teacher marched up to their table. He had a levitating clipboard hovering next to him. He was slightly stumpy and grumpy-looking. Neville thought it would be an unsurprising development if he turned out to be related to Filch.

"Wea-zz-ly, Ginerva," he said in a guttural voice looking around. He pronounced the 'g' incorrectly, like the 'g' in ghost.

"_Ginny_," muttered Neville.

"Whassat, boy?" the professor barked, glaring at Neville. Seamus nudged Neville, who turned red in an instant.

"Nothing-nothing, sir" Neville said, shovelling jelly into his mouth.

"What's your name?" he ordered.

"Neville, Nev-"

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" he thundered. Neville turned around, quivering. Many people in the hall had gone quiet, craning their necks to gain a view of the commotion.

"Neville L-Longbottom, sir."

"So, _Neville Longbottom_" he said the name with amusement, "d'ya wanna' tell me where she is?"

"Where who is?"

"_The Weasley Girl_!" he roared

"Oh, er, she did-didn't, well, she didn't want to come to the hall. Sir"

"Oh, I see," he snorted, "and does Weasley think she 'as the right to just skip dinner?"

Neville didn't feel like answering this. The Professor walked away muttering about 'insolence of today'.

"Who was _that_?" asked Dean. It was almost as if he was daring to speak, the Gryffindors around Neville had fallen into a hush.

"Carrow," said Seamus, "there's two o' em" he nodded towards the teacher table.

Before they could look, something small and white came flying at Dean's head, rebounded and fell into his bowl of jelly.

He gave it a shocked look, before picking it out and wiping the jelly off on the table.

"For you." He handed it to Neville, expectantly.

Neville took it gingerly, wiping off bits of jelly. It was small bit of parchment that had been folded into a square. On one side it read 'Neville'. Neville instantly recognised the handwriting and hastily unfolded it. There was a small and neatly hand drawn picture that was moving.

It showed a long and messy queue of people with their wands out, the two tall twins, the smiling girl with the straggly long hair, the group of giggling Raveclaws, the achingly familiar three at the front…

A choking feeling was rising in Neville, the impact of the climate and the absence of his friends hanging over him. As the rest of those in the hall were getting up to go back to their common rooms, Neville looked over to Luna. She smiled brightly back at him and joined him outside the great hall. Neither of them said anything as they began walking amongst the muttering crowd, in no specific direction.

"I'm a little worried about my father," Luna admitted, as they reached a thinning of crowd.

"R-Really?" Neville said, surprised, "Why?"

"He's been warned about his newspaper, you know, the Quibbler?"

"Warned?" Luna nodded. "Oh. He's not in trouble is he?"

Luna shook her head with a weak smile.

"I'm quite sure it'll be fine, he's been in trouble before, you know, for the things he says. Neville," she stopped walking, "I think we should go see if Ginny is okay, it doesn't seem right to leave her on her own."

"Ginny," said Neville murmured, hanging onto her words, "you're right, er, Gryffindor tower then?"

Luna smiled and nodded, marching off.

Neville stood where he was for a moment, his spine tingling and then speed walked to catch up with her.

Neville followed her to the portrait, gingerly muttered the new password '_Fortis Pectus_' and clambered through the hole. To his surprise, the common room was completely deserted. He looked around sadly.

What was before a lively and warm room, brimming with conversations over conversations and the occasional bangs of exploding snap, now seemed, to Neville, cold and unfriendly. He had never before really seen, it was the Gryffindors that made Gryffindor.

Ginny turned out to have fallen asleep, according to Luna who had snuck into the girls' dormitory to see. They decided not to bother her and returned to the common room, where they perched next to the fire for some warmth, Luna cross legged and Neville leaning against the sofa with his knees against his chin.

To no surprise of Neville's, Luna was staring at the fire with a clear interest. He tilted his head at it, trying to see what she was seeing without much success. It just flickered left and right, with no consistency.

Very close in the centre, there was a bright white light, enveloped in the flames.

Neville frowned and blinked.

It was real. He leaned forward, to get a better look, and spotted another one. Two bright white lights in fact, bobbing about in the fire. Then one of them started to grow, slowly followed by the other and then both grew into menacing balls of spitting fire with a mind of their own.

Neville peered even closer, but withdrew quickly as both balls of fire leapt out and zoomed around rapidly.

"Luna!"

He pulled her and, stumbling backwards, pushed her away from the fire.

From the sound of his voice, the flitting balls of fire seemed to immediately know where they were and darted for them, one went straight through Neville's chest as they, with all the speed they could muster, fumbled out of the Gryffindor common room.

"Did it go through-"

"-my chest, yes," Neville swallowed, beads of sweat gathered on his head and they backed away from the common room, and down the Gryffindor tower. They walked through the halls, in no real direction, with just the instinct to get away from the common room.

The corridors were isolated, an eerie absence of wind and footsteps rendering them silent. They spotted Filch at one point and scuttled into a classroom, but he walked on unaware, muttering to Mrs. Norris. Neville was reminded of his terrifying night-time excursion a lifetime ago, to tell Harry about Draco's plan, the dragon and the punishment in the Forbidden Forest.

They only stopped, when Luna said in a quiet voice, "what time is it?"

Neville looked around. His eyes wide and still breathing, like Luna, very deeply.

"I don't know, can't be before midnight."

"It's also," said a looming gruff voice, "time someone showed you two who makes the rules around here." The same stumpy man who had yelled at him early lurked around the corridor and glared at Neville. "Oh it's you. What was it again? Lond-, Lorb-, Longb-"

"Luna, sir, Luna Lovegood." said Luna, unexpectedly.

The teacher's head snapped to Luna. Unable to move his lips with staggering fear, Neville looked at Luna wondering they could do now. This was bad.

"Well, Luna," he said in a horribly nasal voice, "I'm going to teach you a little something about wandering corridors at night. _Petrificus Totalus_!"

Neville didn't understand. Suddenly it was _him_ that couldn't move. His limbs were frozen and Professor Carrow's wand was pointing at him.

"Miss Lovegood," he sneered, "_Crucio_!"

No! Neville wanted to scream. He wanted to thrash and pull out his wand and stop this!

But he couldn't move.

Luna fell to the floor, her eyes wide and her hands in fist, screaming to an extent that Neville thought the castle must have been dead to have not heard it. Tears formed in his eyes and he tried to break free, but he remained bound, forced to watch.

Whatever enchantments Carrow had put up to cover up his lurid curse were clearly not enough, as Minerva McGonagall came scuttling around the corner and froze for a moment before pulling out her wand flicking it in Carrow's direction.

"_Professor Carrow!_"

The screams subsided. The only sound, Luna breathing and whimpering very slightly. On finding he could move again, Neville dropped to his knees, and placed his feeble hand on her wrist.

"_What. Is. Going. On_?" said a breathless McGonagall.

"Teachin' Miss Lovegood a lesson," snarled Amycus Carrow.

"That-that's illegal! Surely you-"

"Ooh, but it ain't for me!" said Carrow with a snort, "this ain't your school anymore."

He marched off into the darkness, to McGonagall's sheer disbelief.

Neville wanted to cry.

"Miss Lovegood-!" she cried, scurried forward, twisting her wand and conjuring a stretcher, which they placed Luna upon, who didn't seem to be able to stop whimpering. "Go, with her. To the hospital wing. I'll alert Madam Pomfrey."

Her skin was a strange sort of papery pale hue. Again, she flicked her wand, but only a small wisp of smoke came out.

She shook her hand and tried the spell again, only this time a silvery cat burst from the end of her wand and hurried away, down the hall, illuminating everything in it's path as it rushed away.


	4. The Wait 3

**A/N, Thanks for the amazing response, it means a great deal to me!**

There was a break in the cloud, allowing rays of sun to stream majestically through the blinds and pour into the hospital wing. As the clouds moved on, the light seemed to travel across Luna's face for a few moments before leaving it in it's former shadow.

She did not move.

What Neville wanted, what he _really _wanted was to conjure a Patronus. Maybe it would bring back the hope he had felt on the train the day previously. But he knew full well, he couldn't. For one thing, he had never mastered this branch of magic and for another, a good memory was hard to come by these days.

He gazed at an unconscious Luna, as he had done for almost eight hours previously, and remembered her in her dreamlike brightness. Her glowing hair, her pale and smooth skin and the way that faith seemed to pulse around her. It was as if Luna was the living Patronus he could never master.

_Wake up. Wake up. Please..._

There was a strange bruise-like mark above her left eye, more prominent perhaps because the purplish hue which contrasted so greatly with her current icy complexion, where the curse had hit her. This had worried Neville, though he had tried not to think of it. A bruise so close to her eye, would she lose her sight? A bruise so close to her head, would she lose her mind?

A great and sudden sob erupted from his throat, forcing him to close his eyes and breathe for a few moments.

She wouldn't lose her mind. _She couldn't lose her mind._

"It would be in your best interest to go to bed, Mr Longbottom," suggested Madam Pomfrey kindly, "I'm afraid there's little we can do until she wakes up."

Neville wanted to turn and argue, but he had the notion that he might miss Luna's eyes opening if he turned his head away. He wondered why this troubled him.

"I'm okay here, thanks" he said weakly.

"Mr Longbottom, I must insist-"

"Really, Madam Pomfrey," he said, trying to be stern, "even if I_ were_ to go to bed, I doubt I'd be getting any sleep all the same."

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, but as she bustled out of the room she turned around and said, "I don't doubt that Professor McGonagall should be here shortly."

As the silence bore on and unchanging events solidified, the only thought that Neville could bear to confront was this: Why was he still here?

"Mr Longbottom, I ask you that you return-" said Professor McGonagall, walking in cautiously.

"Please don't" he said, a little less defiantly than he would have liked. She took in a startled breath.

"I must impress upon you the reality of this situation, Mr Longbottom. I understand that it has been forced upon you and that you may feel-"

"How would you know how I feel?" he snapped, standing up. He peeled his eyes away from Luna's unmoving form, "Don't you _realise_ what has happened? What could you know about reality of this situation? Reality is seeing someone you- someone you..." he looked back at Luna and unclenched his fists as he sat down again, annoyed for having had to speak.

"I think," she began, and it was clear she was assessing Neville's reaction with every word, "you ought to go back to lesson, Mr. Longbottom."

"But she-"

"You have my word that the staff will inform you of any changes to Luna Lovegood's condition" she said rather formally.

Out of weariness, Neville chose not to argue and sighed to himself before getting up.

He hadn't particularly wanted to return to the Gryffindor common room, through fear of more attacking fire, but he bumped into Seamus on his meander out of the hospital wing. Seamus, on sensing Neville's distress, took him to the boy's dormitory, where Neville washed and changed. Unwilling to be alone longer than necessary, he did this as quickly as possible, while Seamus waited in the common room.

They both went to Muggle Studies with their new teacher, Professor Carrow. Neville hoped beyond hope this wouldn't be the Carrow he had run into the day before.

"Sure yer alright Neville?" said Seamus nervously. Neville nodded and smiled reassuringly.

"Just the whole 'complusory lesson' lumbargo," said Neville to a chuckle from Seamus, "makes you wonder what we're going to be taught that could be so important." He went into the classroom with a smile on his face.

"You" said a wheezy voice, "are very nearly late. Names?"

Seamus and Neville stopped at the door and looked at each other, the joke that had put a smile on their face forgotten. "Well?" squealed Professor Carrow, "names!" The class turned around to look at them, many of them frowning.

"I'm Seamus, Professor, Seamus Finnigan and he's Neville Long-"

"Let me guess!" she interrupted with a sudden glee, "the infamous Neville Longbottom!"

Neville had never really considered himself infamous. Or even well know. The suggestion reminded him of the way Snape used to address Harry.

"Well take a seat then!" she ordered, her eyes wide. There was a silence for a few moments as her mad eyes scoured around the classroom, twisting her head left and right. Seamus and Neville took a seat, exchanging more nervous looks, waiting for someone to speak as the seconds dragged out.

"Mug-gle Stu-dies" she said suddenly. Each syllable dragged out and spat. "Alrigh' you lot, who knows what the 'International Statute of Secrecy' is?"

A few people murmured amongst themselves, wondering where such a silly question could lead to. Neville felt a strange lurch in his stomach, having expected somewhere that Hermione Granger's hand was waving wildly in the classroom before remembering she wasn't there.

"None o' you?" barked the Professor.

"It's a law, P-Professor" said Parvati Patil, "to stop Muggle's finding out about our world."

The Professor's lip curled.

"Almost right, Miss...?"

"Patil, Professor"

"Well Miss Patil, there's another reason for the law," she waited as no hands went up, "to _protect _us from muggles."

There was more murmuring.

"But Professor," said Lavender, "why would we need protecting from Muggles, I mean, we-we're wizards, after all?"

"Right, Miss...?"

"Huh? Oh. Brown. Lavender Brown."

"You're wrong, Miss Brown. There's pretty severe danger from Muggles, but it's usually unnoticed. I want you lot to read pages three to four in your textbooks. Maybe that'll get'choo thinkin'"

She flicked her wand towards the pile of books, which spread out amongst the class.

Neville turned sheepishly to page three, unwilling to catch Carrow's eye.

_Chapter One - What you thought you knew about Muggles._

_Since the establishment of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy 1692, many wizards have been dangerously unaware of the nature and effects of non-magic persons, more commonly referred to as 'Muggles'. In this chapter, Muggle behaviour will be explored at an in-depth level, to compliment a wizard or witches arsenal to protect themselves against these beings._

_The creatures we refer to as Muggles are generously referred to as 'people born without magic'. Many spend their lives in this foul state and attempt to live a life, albeit in ignorance. Some go on to steal magic in an attempt to fix their befouled state. These are then referred to as Muggle-borns, who..._

"What a load of bollocks!" said Seamus, Neville stopped reading and looked up at him, as did many others in the room.

"Oh you think so, do you?" screeched Professor Carrow, abrupt fury clouding her face. "_Incendio!_" she snarled.

A great cry of pain erupted from Seamus who got up from his chair and smacked his hand on his torso, which had caught fire.

"Aguamenti!" yelled Neville without thinking, as a great burst of water erupted from his wand and hit Seamus directly, showering the class as it splayed. Seamus breathed deeply as the fire extinguished from him, leaving tufts of black smoke to pour from his jumper. Although he was drenched, his face was blackened. He looked down to his stomach and then to Professor Carrow, who smiled smugly.

"Sit down" she ordered. A strange look appeared on Seamus's face, disbelieving and terrified simultaneously. He backed away, pulling out his wand, his other hand hovering over his jumper. "I said _sit._" Her smile was fading as she raised her own wand and yelled "_imperio!_"But Seamus was gone, his quick and uneven footsteps tangible from the corridor.

"If any of you _brats_ have any brigh' ideas of bein' a rebel, I suggest you think twice," she growled, "you'll all carry on readin' until the end of the lesson. If I 'ear a word, it'll be stingin' hexes for the lotta' ya'," she stared at the class momentarily, "what're you looking at me for! READ!" her voice quickly rose in volume. The extent of the temper was obvious to everyone.

Neville's eyes glazed over the page, but he read nothing. The tortured, confused, almost inexplicable look on Seamus's face was one he knew wouldn't leave him for a very long time.

He wished ruefully that Luna would appear next to him and remind him that this might all be over one day


	5. The Beginning  4

Neville's timetable confused him.

The strain that the compulsory lessons put on him was dizzying. He didn't particularly want to take Defence Against the Dark Arts, and yet it was plastered repeatedly over his schedule.

Due to his current record with the Carrows, he was in no hurry to reach this lesson. He was curious as to why a Death Eater would opt to choose to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, but curiosity couldn't pull him away from taking short detours to the Hospital Wing, before lessons, after lessons, in between lessons and just about anytime he could manage.

He never stayed for long. In fact he barely had the courage to step inside. He would peer through to see if Luna looked any different and leave, before he made a habit of spending his time mourning over her, while she was slowly slipping away from him. Every time the thought crept into his head, he dismissed it and tried to force himself to think - _The Cruciatus Curse, it's not the end of the world._ Still, the irony in it grated at him, throughout his day.

Incidentally, his first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson did not come until the Tuesday of the second week at Hogwarts. He was scheduled to have one the previous Thursday, but it had been cancelled. Amycus Carrow had been mysteriously summoned and refused to allow any other teacher to cover his class.

Neville had wished dearly that a similar sort of situation might reoccur on the second lesson, but luck was not on his side.

He visited Luna, as briefly as he could manage, before turning around and decided that it would be unwise to delay the looming lesson for much longer.

As he stumped along the corridors, trying not to imagine Luna's silent and vacant face, he heard a sharp growl.

"_Get away from me,_" said a voice that Neville couldn't have dreaded more, were it Severus Snape himself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think- no, listen! I didn't know, please!" cried a desperate female voice.

Neville stopped where he was, creeping towards the door of a classroom where the voice was coming from. He positioned his ear carefully against the door, the urge to find out what was going on fighting against the fact that he could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"Come on, Draco!" the voice cried. Neville's heart missed a beat, "Please! _Please!_"

"I've got more on my mind than your dramas, Pansy, I swear. Take your hand _off_ my arm before-" There was a startling gasp. A gasp that cut off the conversation. Neville pressed his ear harder against the door.

"Draco..._Draco!_" she said in a whisper amidst a thick silence. "You said you - you weren't going to...oh god, your _arm!_"

"You're not going to tell anyone," she said in an icy voice, "about what you just saw."

"Oh, _ow!_Draco, let go! My shoulder!"

"_Understand!_"

"Yes! Let go! Christ, Draco, I don't know what's got into you."

There was a quiet for a few moments. "It's that _Amelie_ isn't it," said Pansy, seemingly having calmed down, though the venom in her voice was unsettling, "trust you Draco, some trampy blonde..."

"Pansy. Shut up, just shut up." There was no taunting, none of the snarling and condescending comments that Neville had grown so accustomed to, just the silky tone of real hate. "You really think the world is as small as that? Do you know what's going on out there?"

"Of course I do!" she huffed.

"You don't _know _what I've done," he said slowly, "your existence is about as consequential to me the dirt on my shoe." She gasped. "My world isn't for you anymore."

"But, I-"

"You can tell Blaise," his was suddenly dismissive, "he's welcome to you. I've got bigger things going on." Neville pictured the stormy exchange that took place in the silence. "Have a nice life, Pansy."

Pansy pushed the door open with such a violent force that it knocked Neville in the head and he stumbled around for a few moments. She flounced out, sobbing down the hallway as Draco stood in the door frame watching her. He turned his head slowly to Neville.

"You and Potter seem to have made a great habit of eavesdropping," he drawled, "that is of course, if Potter isn't dead already." He withdrew his wand as Neville withdrew his own and prepared himself. He was reminded of Harry's words a lifetime ago, _you have to believe in yourself. You have to be prepared._Malfoy advanced on him, his wand pointing threateningly at Neville's nose. "What did you hear? What did you see?"

"How could I have-?"

"I'm warning you. I've got magic you couldn't dream of Longbottom. So tell me what you heard and then you can scuttle off to lesson."

"Nothing, Malfoy. I-I didn't hear anything," the fear was leaking through his words.

"Last chance," Malfoy snarled.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I was just walking-"

"_Legilimens!_"

"_Protego!"_

Neville almost shrieked the spell, pleased at how instinctive it felt, scared it might not have worked. Judging by the furious expression on Malfoy's face, it had.

_"Watch your back Longbottom._"

Malfoy's glare fixated on Neville's eyes so stonily, that Neville wondered if Draco _had_ gotten into his mind. Rather, Draco turned around and stormed down the hallway, twisting his wand between his fingers.

* * *

"Mr Longbottom. Nice o' you to show up. Lesson's almost over," snorted Amycus Carrow as Neville tried to sneak in, "detention in my office. Tonigh'." Neville sat down, slamming his bag onto his desk. "And that's enough lip from you!"

"I didn't-!"

"He didn't say anything!" Parvati suddenly retorted. Everyone could feel another 'punishment' coming.

"Think you know better than me, do ya'? You can join Longbotton in detention!" he snarled. "And why've the rest of you stopped practising. I'll 'ave you in detention in a flash!"

Before Neville could inquire as to what was going on, a dreadful screaming ensued in the corner of the room, followed by a chorus of horrified murmurs.

To Neville's disbelief, as he joined the crowd of students, he saw Lavender Brown, sprawled on the floor, shaking around as if she was being electrocuted. Gregory Goyle was stood in front of her with a sickening grin on his face and his wand pointing at her.

Without thinking, Neville lunged at Goyle, aiming to physically disarm him somehow. But Goyle saw it coming and flung his elbow out in defence, smacking Neville's face. Blood poured out of Neville's nose.

"_Expelliarmus!_" he yelled, stumbling back and pulling out his wand, his other hand desperately tried to staunch the bleeding. Satisfyingly, Goyle's wand flew out of his hand, and Seamus lunged to catch it. Lavender's screams subsided.

"Oi! I'll teach you what 'appens to those what disrupt my teaching." To Neville's disbelief, Carrow came storming over to him, anger rippling over his piggy eyes.

He looked between Neville, who looked as if someone had just punched him, and Seamus who was gripping Goyle's wand with a sort of defiance in his expression.

"_Crucio!_"

"_Protego!_"

The jet of light rebounded from Seamus and missed Carrow by inches. Neville was beginning to like the shield charm a lot.

The fury on Carrow's face was a mirror of Malfoy's, only more ugly and with another weapon.

"You can join your friends in detention, whatever-your-name-is," muttered Carrow, betraying a defeatist tone for a split-second.

"Finnigan" said Seamus a little jubilantly.

With little concern as to whether the two-minute lesson had ended or not, Neville walked out. The other Gryffindors looked between each other nervously, before standing up and hastily walking out behind him, Parvati supporting Lavender. Despite having gotten detention, Neville hadn't felt so good since term had started. He was one-up with Carrow and Malfoy.

"So much for a lesson," Seamus snorted.

"We should go to the hospital wing," suggested Dean nervously, "doesn't your nose hurt, Neville?"

"And Lavender looks like she's about to pass out," piped up Parvati.

With a renewed sense of hope and teamwork, the only draw to the hospital wing for Neville was to see Luna and harbour the vain hope that she might wake up and join the fight that was starting long before Neville had expected.


	6. The News 5

As Neville entered the Hospital Wing, the first thing he saw was not Luna.

Ginny was sitting on one of the beds, stretching her jaw at odd angles, as if it had been recently glued shut. He instantly felt ashamed. He hadn't seen her for a while.

The hospital wing itself was brimming with the injured and the unconscious people now. Neville had gained some idea of this, with his would-be visits, but the scale of the liveliness had been unbeknown to him. There seemed to be more adults, adults that did not belong to the school, sauntering around examining people. Many of them were wearing uniforms Neville recognised to belong to St. Mungo's. Madam Pomfrey looked as if she hadn't slept for days.

As Ginny spotted Neville, her eyes went wide and she ran over to him, looking unpleasantly surprised.

"What the hell happened to your face?" she yelled, a little too audibly. Neville smiled.

"You can talk, what's going on with your mouth?"

Ginny rubbed her jaw. "I got into a fight with that stupid Amelie girl," she muttered. The name rung dim a bell in Neville's mind. "New Slytherin girl in my year. French, hangs around with Malfoy and his mandem."

Neville raised his eyebrows disapprovingly. "What did you do that for?"

"It's not like I wanted to land myself here! It's been horrible you know! Seeing Luna lying over there! And it's like the place is making me have nightmares! And everyone..."

"You stayed here overnight?"

Ginny nodded.

"It started as a duel, but she did this," Ginny held out her arm, where a strange purple burn-like mark was growing, "so they wanted to examine it and kept me here last night. After she did this, I realised she would be all open to dark magic and I figured I was probably better off just ripping her head off without my wand."

"And why exactly would she be open to dark magic? "

"Well she's completely on the other side!" Ginny wailed, as if she was protesting, "her parents are probably newly joined Death Eaters, come to live under the new regime."

"Yeah, but aren't half the Slytherins on you-know-who's side, anyway? Why aren't you punching them?"

"_Because _she started going on and on and on about the resistance and how it's not going to work! And that this is the natural order and _I'd_ like to tell her what the resistance is doing and maybe that will wipe the ridiculous smile off her face and _then_ she started going on about-" she paused in her rant to breathe, "-Harry."

They looked at each other briefly, unsure of where to go from that point. A woman bustled over to Neville, looking particularly matron-like and said in a sweet voice:

"Can I get you a drink, love? You _are_ looking a little peaky."

Neville nodded, "please," as she spun her wand and summoned a glass of water to them both.

"Neville," said Ginny quietly, watching the matron-like woman saunter away, "if Luna doesn't wake up by tomorrow, they're going to move her to St. Mungo's."

"They're going to _what?_" He choked for a few seconds on the water, as it shot down the wrong pipe.

"Well they don't want to. St. Mungo's is brimming with muggle-borns and squibs who are being attacked everyday. They want to take the Muggles who've been magically attacked to a special ward, but every one's scared the Death Eaters are going to descend if they let a Muggle in. And the last thing we want is the hospital being blow up. The staff were all pretending the Death Eater's haven't got their fingers on St. Mungo's, but really, if a muggle's been attacked and can't go there, they're just lying to themselves, aren't they?"

"Well, why are they sending Luna there for!"

"They think he did something else to her. Not just the Cruciatus Curse."

"He didn't! I was there!"

"He's a dark wizard, Neville," she said softly, "I'm sure he knows more about Dark Magic than you do."

Neville felt as if he was freezing over, becoming heavier and then sinking.

"How long until they take her?" he whimpered.

"It's for the best, you know," said Ginny, "They can do much more than the staff here. All these adults sauntering around are hired-or-otherwise help, trying to figure out why she won't wake up. Madam Pomfrey's over the moon about them, she's at loss with what to do with Luna. Not that she'd show it, I mean it's starting to look as if they're treading on her toes."

"Do you think the Healers will be able to do anything different."

"Probably."

Neville stood up and walked over to Luna. The idea of her being stuck in St. Mungo's was painfully familiar to him. And if St. Mungo's was a target for destruction, this was the last thing he had wanted.

He eavesdropped on the healers standing around her, muttering and nodding to eachother.

"...mark that's worrying me" said one.

"That's what I thought," a second, more pompous-looking healer said, peering over Luna's head. His giant grey mustache seemed to ripple as he knowledgeably prodded Luna's forehead.

"Give it a rest, Balatro, I'll call someone to have a look at it."

"If I can just get a closer look," said the pompous one, who was apparently called Balatro, "out of the way!"

A student in the fifth year shuffled along, grumpily.

"Harper!" Balatro called under his breath, "you're right!"

"About what? The mark?"

"Yes! Look! _Amplifico_!"

A couple more uniformed adults gathered around Luna, so that Neville was unable to see. There was significant murmuring now and Neville could only catch parts of the conversation.

"...potion! If it's not ready...by tomorrow, where's that woman? We need...the rest of the kids? They wouldn't...ought to be arrested! It's illegal...figure out how he did it?"

The talked over one another excitedly, until Madam Pomfrey came over. Neville desperately tried to join the crowd and become a part of the conversation.

"Dear lady!" said Balatro, cutting across Harper who had just opened his mouth to speak, "this is _horrifyingly_ dark magic!"

"I know that!" snapped Madam Pomfrey, "what have you found?"

"This mark, on her forehead, take a closer look!"

"But I've already examined it!" said Madam Pomfrey, folding her arms in an unimpressed way, "it's just a souvenir of the curse."

"The curses do not leave marks like this. A bad dose of the Cruciatus Curse infects the inner self."

Although frighteningly busy, there was an unmistakable hush around the room. Ginny pushed herself into the circle around Luna's bed.

"But then...then mark...?" whispered Madam Pomfrey. As another man walked into the room.

"The Venators will be here within half an hour," said the man. Two bright red spots appeared on his cheeks as the room all turned to look at him, "...I just- I just called for them."

They seemed to split up and start examining other unconscious students. Neville could only guess they were hoping blindly that the situation was the same with all of them.

Balatro drew himself up to his fullest height.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Ladies and gen-gentle - lad-ladies and gen-!" he spluttered. Neville stifled a laugh. "We've got urg-urgent work...no listen!" He frowned. "Harper, they're ignoring me!"

Harper rolled his eyes and pulled out his wand. He pointed it to this throat and spoke, in not such a loud voice, but an echoing voice that won the attention of the people in the room, asking visitors kindly to leave. There were murmurs of 'goodbye''s and 'I'll be here later''s and the students began filing out. Despite half the people having left, the hospital wing was still a flurry of bustling adults and not the peaceful room Neville was used to.

"I'm afraid that means you too, son," said Harper, putting a hand on Neville's shoulder. Neville didn't think to argue. He just walked to Luna and stroked her freezing cheek.

_"I hope you get better."_

And he left the room.

Neville wasn't sure how to feel. Luna was going to get better, and yet everything in his mind seemed to be going too fast.

Being of the last to leave, Neville was expecting a solitary walk back to the common room, but he had not reached the end of the corridor, when the doors opened and he came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

Draco gave a choking gasp as he saw Neville, but this was nothing compared to Neville's reaction.

Draco seemed to be bloodstained and carrying - no, _dragging_- a body, with great difficulty. The person seemed to be unconscious and also covered in blood. It was with great confusion and terror that Neville recognised the person to be Pansy Parkinson.

Neither of them moved, stood in the hallway, staring, wondering what the other was thinking. They both jumped at the sound of a distant, but sharp voice.

"She's not dead if that's what you're thinking," said Malfoy coldly. It was easy to see how he tried to suppress the tremors that were leaking out of his voice.

Despite being unconscious and covered in blood, seemingly her own, Pansy seemed to look a whole lot better than Draco. Not a hair was out of place, not a part of her shirt untucked. There was a strange look on her face, as if she could just be asleep. Contrarily, Malfoy's platinum hair was a sopping and dishevelled mess, as if he'd just walked through a storm. His cheekbones seemed to protrude out against his grayish taunt skin, which looked as if it would tear at the slightest change in expression. His sleeves were carelessly rolled up and his tie hung, undone, around his neck. He was breathing heavily, as a result of having dragged Pansy from wherever she'd been hurt.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Malfoy growled, a little bitterly, "or are you going to help me?"

"You want _me_, to help _you_?"

"I would have thought I had made that quite clear" he hissed.

There was more quiet, Neville felt as if the hallway was rotating around the three people in it.

"She's going to die, if she's not seen to, right now," Malfoy said in a stony voice. "_Please!"_

Neville jumped at the last word, as if snapping in consciousness.

He walked over to Pansy, who had a dark red line across her abdomen, as if she had been sliced with a sword. Neville, hoping she had no damage to her bones, picked her up and began to pace down the hallway, back to the hospital wing.

In Neville's opinion, she wasn't particularly heavy. He looked at behind him, but Malfoy was at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall. His fingers were running through his hair and he looked, at some moments, as if he was about to pull it out.

Neville had never particularly liked Pansy or Draco, but he couldn't deny to himself how vulnerable they both looked now.

And he felt better for fighting when he wondered, if Voldermort's power was victimising and chaining all those who were claiming loyalty to it.

* * *

That night, Neville dreamt of Luna. That she had woken up and he had flown to see her, but there was no smile and no embrace. Malfoy had woken up too, much before Neville and seen to Luna. She lay on the hospital wing floor, not as graceful as Pansy had been and certainly not as unaware. Every violent infliction on her body showed on the expression of her face and her very-conscious self looked at Draco. And then directed a very terrified and hopeless look at Neville.

The dream-Malfoy, kneeled slowly beside her, no more colder and no more ghostly than the real Draco had been earlier that day.


End file.
